


morning is still

by bassgoboom (misconceptionsof)



Series: one of those nights [2]
Category: SHINee
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Sex, Barebacking, M/M, Massage, Nipple Play, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Prostate Massage, Sleepy Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 17:42:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,361
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27170566
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/misconceptionsof/pseuds/bassgoboom
Summary: it ends with a bath, like he promised
Relationships: Choi Minho/Kim Kibum | Key
Series: one of those nights [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1970596
Comments: 3
Kudos: 70
Collections: Kinktober Bingo 2020





	morning is still

**Author's Note:**

> happy kinktober! bingo spaces used: massage, sleepy sex, nipple play, orgasm delay, aftercare... enjoy <3

It doesn’t happen often, but there are some mornings where Minho will open his eyes at an hour some may consider ungodly and Kibum will already be awake. Eyes droopy and cloudy and down at the edges, but certainly awake.

They had something of a long night and honestly Minho wasn’t expecting to have the energy to be awake until at least noon. He can still feel hard scratches on his back and chest and his thighs are sore and his hips are bruised, and even the act of being awake is making his heart patter in his chest like he’s just run a marathon.

But Kibum turns around to face him, sunlight from the window traveling from one cheekbone to the other, and slots their legs together. So sweet when the sun comes up.

“Morning,” he mumbles directly into Minho’s furnace of a bare chest, wrapping his arms as best he can around Minho’s torso, hides his face from the bright sun. “You’re always so warm. Heat me up.”

“You’re always so cold,” Minho offers, kissing the top of his head. Kibum’s hair always smells so nice, like sweat and his perfume and Minho’s menthol shampoo. This morning it sticks up every which way from the mousse he’d put in yesterday, and a part of Minho wants to dig his fingers in and rub his scalp. “I can’t get much closer to you.”

They stay like that for a moment, Minho running one hand through Kibum’s hair and the other up and down his lower back. It gets really quiet on mornings where neither of them have very much to do. When they don’t have to be awake and honestly should be resting, but enjoy the company.

This morning when Kibum pulls back and Minho knows he can hardly see him without his glasses and his eyes foggy from fatigue, he can’t help but to kiss him.

It’s unhurried and Kibum’s lips are impossibly soft and still a bit puffy, and Minho feels Kibum’s tongue dart out to lick and nibble at Minho’s chapped lips like he’s doing him a favor. Minho smiles into this kiss, and Kibum smiles in return, and it’s just like that for a while.

Their tongues are cold from having just woken up, and they’re still so tired that they lick into each other so lazily. Like they could just fall back asleep like this and pick it back up later.

Minho’s insatiable, of course he is, when it comes to Kibum. And sure the sex is something he could never get tired of, but there’s also this:

The part where Minho kisses and kisses and kisses him. His pretty lips and his neck and his collarbones where he was biting and sucking last night. The back of his hand and the top of his forehead and on Kibum’s sleepy eyelids. The bottom of his tummy and the very inside of his thigh and the head of his cock.

The part where Minho runs his hands all the way down Kibum’s body. Squeezing anything soft. His thighs and his ass and the sweet dip in his waist.

The part where Minho knows that Kibum can’t get enough of him either.

Kibum’s so relaxed this morning, rolls gently onto his back, flush all the way up his neck. He runs one hand up his chest and around his hardening little nipples like he’s showing off. Like he’s daring Minho to touch him more.

“You’re beautiful, you know that?” Minho says, kissing the wet corner of his mouth and the angle of his jaw and every inch down to his chest. His nipples are hardening up in the cool air once he’s pulled away from Minho’s body.

He kisses the one on Kibum’s left, soft skin under his lips, drags them along lightly, listening for a reaction. Kibum lets out a little breath. Eyes closed, completely relaxed when Minho kisses again, and again, open mouthed, using his tongue.

Kibum slurs out a sound, something that sounds like the very beginning of Minho’s name, but abruptly turns into a fluttering moan when Minho bares his teeth. He drags those along too, not biting but letting them press into his skin like he’s an animal too obedient to tear him apart.

“Ohh,” Kibum’s voice is still so soft, and destroyed from last night, fingers still lazy in Minho’s hair when he moves across to his other nipple. “You’re teasing me.”

Minho smiles into the kiss, nibbling experimentally. “Do you want me to stop?”

He doesn’t get a response, and he knew he wasn’t going to. Kibum loves getting teased, the fact that they’re going slow. His poor fucked out fogged up brain has hardly caught up to being awake and focused on again.

A little rougher, Minho pulls his skin between his teeth, sharp and wet. It pulls another moan from him. This one cracks in the middle of his throat.

He can feel Kibum getting hard at his hip, just a little bit. Pink and twitching and interested, but just as tired as the rest of him.

“You think you can come like this, baby?” Minho asks, so low Kibum should barely be able to register it. He shakes his head a little bit. Minho detaches from his chest, lips red, keeps a firm pressure of his nipple between his fingers. “No?”

“No,” Kibum’s whining, gets like this the morning after a long night. “I need more.”

“But look how hard you are already. I think I could get you really close.” Minho slides his hand down to cup around him.

“I-” Kibum starts, and Minho’s teeth are on him again, rolling his nipples in between them, pulling and licking and sucking, and Kibum is stretched out like an elastic band. “ _Minho_.”

He just keeps working on him, nipples pebbled under his lips, no longer smooth. His body is finally getting worked up, now. And Kibum’s pulsing a bit in his hand after a while, breathing hard, eyes still closed like this could be a wet dream. Minho plays and plays and it could be just seconds or even hours later when Kibum gives up and thrusts his hips like he’s searching for release.

Minho pulls back entirely, sets up on his hands and knees, caging above him. Kibum’s eyes open for what must only be the second time since they’ve woken up, and he looks particularly dazed and blown out. Above him, Minho can see almost all of him pressed into the mattress, including his dick, sitting pretty pink and sticky on his stomach.

“ _Minho_ ,” it’s a whine that comes out. Exasperated.

“I guess you were right.” Minho leans down to kiss him on his forehead. “You can’t come like that.”

Kibum huffs in response. He’s not the type to take it like this. The brat in him wants to turn the tables, and Minho can tell, but his bones are like jelly, helpless in the morning.

Minho’s bones ache in this position, and he knows he could collapse just the same on top of Kibum, but it’s such a rarity to not have Kibum giving him pushback or punishment for this. It’s a treat.

He doesn’t even want to provoke him. He wants to see just how much Kibum can melt.

“What if,” Minho starts, kissing him everywhere his lips can touch, whispering secrets into his skin. “We stay like this all morning. You just lay back and I’ll take care of you.”

There’s a catch, there always is, but Minho waits until he’s littered all over him. Kissed and soothed over every hickey he passes by while climbing back down his chest. He presses his nose into Kibum’s rib cage when he speaks again. “I can draw things out extra long. I know you love when I do that.”

Kibum’s whine is so deep that Minho can feel it under his mouth. A long, drawn out half-formed shape of his name. “You promised a massage and a bath.”

“I’ll do that too, don’t worry, kitten.” Kibum’s breath hitches under the nickname and Minho smiles into his skin again. “Do you want that?”

Looking up at Kibum like this is like nothing else, Minho thinks. He looks down with no barrier, nothing holding him back, completely vulnerable. He could sit like this forever in between his legs, but then Kibum nods, chin tilting up to reveal some blossoming hickeys under his jaw that he’d completely forgotten about.

Minho forces himself to pull back, to turn Kibum onto his stomach, purposefully ignoring how hard he is, how much of a mess he might make on their sheets. As if that matters.

Kibum’s so responsive to massages, anyway. Completely melts under Minho’s hands. Sometimes, when he’s in the mood to be treated well, or so over the edge that he’s babbling out nonsense just to get something inside him, he’ll go on about how broad his hands are. How they manage to be soft on his skin and firm into his muscles.

Now, he lets out a little whimper when Minho straddles his lower back, settling on his ass and getting immediately to work on his shoulders.

Minho loves when Kibum’s this pleased and tired. He loves playing cat and mouse, and he loves when Kibum begs for him, but he wouldn’t trade anything for the moments when there are no games, and Kibum is just feeling good underneath him. Because of him. All for him, with nothing in between.

Minho likes to start high on his shoulders, thumbs into either side of his spine, dragging across his beautiful skin to the tops of his shoulders. He can feel the tenseness slinking out of his body, the residual bone-ache from the way his body was bent and used last night.

As he works his way down, he can’t help but let his praises spill out. How beautiful the line of this back is, the sharp muscle he has there, how he’s dusted in little freckles no one else can see.

When Minho gets to his waist is when Kibum’s broken little moans return, pushing through the roughness of his throat. He pushes his thumbs into his lower back, his hands dragging along the expanse of it, pressing so much of his weight there.

He manages to ignore, for now, his hardening cock lying against Kibum’s ass. This is about him.

Minho works the heel of his hand into Kibum’s lower back, right where he knows to be his prostate, and Kibum sounds close to tears when he moans this time.

“Feels good baby?” Minho asks sweetly, keeping a steady pressure. His voice is low so Kibum can hardly hear.

He hums in response, head turned to the side and eyes closed. Minho takes that as cue to work down lower, massaging his cheeks in his broad hands, kneading and spreading them.

He takes a moment to notice how _pretty_ he is, how tight he still manages to look, relaxed from sleep but still so small. Minho adjusts so he’s sitting in between Kibum’s soft thighs, far enough to see all of him laid out.

Kibum whines when Minho starts prodding his dry finger at his hole, squeaking into the pillow he’s holding so tightly onto.

Minho reaches over to a chest at the end of the bed where the lube was tossed last night, wets his fingers cold with it. Last night, he’d pushed in cold, a surprise. This morning he rubs the lube between his fingers, warming it up for him. It’s a little reward.

With one hand he spreads open Kibum’s cheeks, with the other he presses into him again. The slide is easy this time, and Kibum groans deep and low and tight in his throat.

“You’re so tight,” Minho says, because he is. He always is, but he can feel how tight he is already, how he clenches rhythmically before Minho even inches his way to his prostate.

Kibum nearly _screams_ when he does. He clenches hard and squeezes his thighs and Minho pulls out, smiling at his keening and whimpering.

“Minho,” Kibum breathes, exasperated as ever. He can tell by the way his shoulders move as he breathes just how close he is. He suppresses the urge to flip him over, see just how hard he is, if his pretty cock is flaming red, if Kibum’s eyes are still closed from exhaustion. “Make me come.”

Minho hums, leaning down to kiss his tailbone. “Not yet, baby. I promised to make you feel good. Draw it out.”

He can hear the bubbling of adamant refusal in Kibum’s chest. It’s waking him up further, it’s still there. “What happened to the massage?”

Minho pushes two fingers inside, an easy stretch. He slides against the spot that’ll get Kibum to scream again, not pushing too hard into it, but curling his fingers to stimulate it.

“This is the massage,” he says, gripping his little waist with his other hand just so he has more leverage. It’s so tongue-in-cheek that Kibum just growls. An edging prostate massage wasn’t exactly what Kibum meant last night, or what Minho promised.

Every time Minho feels Kibum clench hard, bite his pillows, curl his toes, he pulls out and returns to his back. He knows how desperate Kibum can get in the morning.

Sometimes he’ll wake him up like this.

Now, the edging gets unbearable, Kibum being thrust further into pleasure with every pass. Minho can tell he’s not going to be able to hold it off much longer.

The back massages end up being longer and longer and Minho’s fingers are inside him for shorter and shorter, cutting off his orgasm right before it starts to wash over him. Minho always knows when it will. All until Kibum is a babbling mess underneath him.

Minho, so hard he’s aching, replaces his fingers with his cock this time, pulls Kibum up to his knees so he can glide his hands across his body. He makes sure not to move, to wrap a tight ring of fingers around his leaking cock so he doesn’t come right there. And Kibum could if Minho asked him to.

 _“Please!”_ Kibum nearly screams and it’s so pulsing wet, Kibum’s entire body thrumming with pleasure. Having been denied so many times.

Minho would almost feel bad if he didn’t know Kibum craved this so much, so deep in his bones.

He takes his free hand, pulls Kibum’s back towards his chest, rakes his fingers across his pointed nipples. Without letting go of his hold, he pinches one hard, and Kibum’s next moan is crackled and broken and Minho can tell he’s crying, and he’ll wipe his tears later, but right now he wants Kibum to feel good, more than anything.

“Do you want me to flip us over?” Minho asks, just in case. Sometimes, most of the time, Kibum wants to be on his back. Sometimes he likes it on his knees. On rare occasions he prefers to ride him, but it’s morning and so cold in this room and Minho’s positive that if he let go that Kibum would just collapse.

Kibum _growls,_ this time. “Just fuck me!”

And Minho does, more or less using one hand to seat Kibum onto his cock again and again, the other hand still tight around him so he can’t come.

Kibum’s moans are _beautiful_ , Minho has to note. They rip through the air, tangle in his hair with Kibum’s fingers, float to the back of his throat when he kisses _ah ah ah’s_ desperately into Minho’s mouth. Odd angle be damned.

Minho can tell he’s pressing into him so perfectly, so deep like this.

He lets go of Kibum’s dick, dragging his hand up to his neck for just a small reminder of last night, and grinds in extra hard.

Kibum’s coming before Minho even gets to whisper “come for me,” into his ear, and it rocks all the way through both of them. Minho watches him come across their sheets, watches Kibum’s stomach clench up, watches his chest all the way up his neck to his head go red.

Of course, this sets Minho off too.

Minho doesn’t pull out, not yet. Even after they’ve ridden out all the aftershocks, Minho stays inside. He rubs his wet hands all over Kibum’s chest, brushing past everything flaming red and sensitive.

He manages, at some point, to pull out, come and lube sputtering out along with him. Kibum lets out a shudder, Minho knows how gross he feels once all the excitement wears off. Before he can manage to start whining, Minho pulls away, padding into their bathroom and filling up their claw-foot tub. It was Kibum’s pick when they picked this apartment.

By the time it’s warm and full, he makes his way back to Kibum, sprawled out, inner elbow over his eyes, breathing finally slowed.

Minho picks him up like a doll, so worn out, carries them both into the tub.

It’s relatively quiet except the sound of elbows dipping underwater and bubbles popping for a long time, lathering each other and kissing lazily.

Minho has his hands soapy, buried into Kibum’s hair when he finally speaks. “Was all that too much for seven in the morning?”

Kibum tries a little scoff, but it’s not a joke. His eyes are still red-rimmed. They’re facing each other, legs tangled, his wet hands on Minho’s chest. “You know I wouldn’t let you do anything that’s too much for me.”

“What about last night?” Minho eyes his throat. 

He sticks his tongue into his cheek. Runs his fingers across some red scratches on Minho’s chest that he’s nearly forgotten about.

“You know I’m in charge,” is what Kibum says. And he knows to say this to drive Minho crazy. He scratches a spot right behind Kibum’s ear to make him melt, just to prove his point. “You get to play like you’re in charge because I love you, so I let you.”

Minho might just blush from that, if he weren’t already so warm from the water and the sex and all of it. He loves every bit of being with Kibum, even the most frustrating parts.

Kibum leans in to kiss him, mouth wet from dunking his head underneath the water, and Minho lets him. He rolls his eyes and kisses him, scratching the back of his head. He cuts them off to dunk his head under the water, and Minho runs his thumbs over his eyes to make sure no water or soap irritates them. Kibum always gives him a small smile when he does this.

“And what about you? I scratched you up a bit.” Kibum’s voice is low and sweet, cheeks a little pink. “You’re so much more breakable than I am.”

Minho’s already got his hand in between Kibum’s cheeks, making sure his skin is soft, not sticky, clean for next time. At Kibum’s remark, he actually laughs. “If you’re trying to turn me on by degading me right now you’re going to have to wait, because I’m not fucking you in the tub.”

Kibum kisses him again, this time licking into his mouth. “You used to be much more insatiable.”

“You used to offer to make me breakfast first.”

“I would never,” Kibum says, sweetly against his lips. Their soft cocks slide together underwater as he gathers the strength to pull himself out of the tub and towel himself off. When Minho follows suit, draining the tub and grabbing his own towel, Kibum takes it to dry his hair for him from behind. Minho can’t see his face while he faces the other way, but he feels his cupid’s bow lips on the tender scratches on his back. “But if I did make you breakfast, what would you want?”

“Omelets? I’ll make some rice.”

“Alright,” Kibum sings, much like his moans, much like bells. He hands the towel back to Minho and smacks his ass on the way out of the bathroom.

Minho dries himself off and turns back to watch Kibum grab some boyshorts out of their dresser. “Love you, baby.”

“Love you too.”

**Author's Note:**

> i hope everyone who was waiting on part 2 enjoyed! finally writing some minkey on this account thank god.
> 
> thank you so much for summer of shinee moderators as always for putting together such an amazing event, i'm so glad to be a part of it!
> 
> keep an eye out for bassgoboom and the resurgence of the subdivisions series ;)
> 
> follow me @chwesbian on twitter if you're into that kind of thing


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